Show Me Love
by swaggyzebraTW
Summary: Clary is going through many troubles in her life, and finds the worst ways to alleviate her pain. She is broken and locked up, and it seems as though no one is truly aware of the situation she is in. Can a certain blonde save her from the hole she has put herself in? Or will Jace fade away like the rest of her friends? Clace. Rated T for violence and language, though it is minor.


**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Mortal Instruments**_**, all rights go to Ms. Clare and her people. **

**Song Recommendations: **_**Show Me Love**_** and **_**Heartbreak Story**_** by The Wanted, and **_**Hummingbird **_**and**_** Damn Your Eyes **_**by Alex Clare. **

The blade ran smoothly along my skin, as always. The pain that the razor elicited was barely tangible, yet it served its purpose of distracting myself from the many troubles in my life. I continued to carve into my once tanned flesh, which was now frighteningly pale and ghastly. My thoughts no longer lingered on my depression; alternatively focusing themselves on the pooling crimson liquid that was surfacing on my skin.

Glancing sorrowfully at the fresh wounds, I noticed how they varied in depth. Scars had formed from my earliest cuts, and scabs were forming over the fairly recent ones. The open wounds were still bleeding profusely, yet I found little urge to bind them. My mind seemed to be at a state of ease; processing much slower then usual. In fact, it was so slow that it took me whole four minutes to come to my senses and begin to clean up the mess I had made.

There was blood drying all over my arm, and a small crimson pool had formed on the floor beneath me. The sink was covered with red splotches, and the entirety of the bathroom was filled with the gruesome stench of iron. Had I not been used to the scent, I probably would have vomited or plugged my nose; but I had been in this situation many times before, and have become accustomed to the horrid ramifications of my self-harm plenaries. I no longer mind them; as I only see the consequences as minute issues in comparison with the alternative, which is to suffer through my many cognitive complications.

My mother and Luke are currently unaware of my situation. They are rarely home these days; spending most of their time with Robert and Maryse Lightwood. When they are home, I seldom see them, and when I do, I simply wear lengthened sleeves. Because of their frequent absences, I stay at the institute with Isabelle, Alec, and Jace; only going home when my mother is actually in New York. Alec doesn't care for me, so we don't see each other, and Isabelle is constantly busy. Jace is the only one who actually seems to care for me, yet I have managed to keep my secret safe from him. He seldom enters my room, let alone my bathroom, so it is fairly easy to keep it from Jace. It only becomes harder when we are training and I have to wear long sleeves.

I flipped on the faucet, and watched as the clear liquid mixed with my own blood, before eventually swirling down the drain. I deposited the razor blade in the porcelain sink and walked to the small linen closet in the back of the room.

Though the closet was minute in comparison to the rest of the room, and had rusty hinges that squeaked whenever I tried to open it; I deemed the space helpful. It was in here that I stored my supplies, which currently consisted of razors, towels, bandages, spare clothes, and some makeup. The humble stock served a decent enough purpose of assisting me with my self-harm operation; patching me up after the harm was to be temporarily reprieved.

I grabbed some paper towels from the top shelf, along with some clean bandages a level below. Walking back to the sink, I noticed that most of the blood on my blade had washed off, along with the small splotches that had tainted the creamy whiteness of the porcelain. Dipping my forearm under the water flow, I gently cleaned all of my wounds. The process was a fairly painful one, as most of the feeling had come back int my flesh, causing me to wince and whimper on occasion.

I had barely cleaned up the floor and bandaged my arm when a sudden knock sounded from the door. It was loud and strong, making me realize that the intruder was just outside of the bathroom, rather then my bathroom.

"Hello?" The male voice called.

Jace. "Hey, I'll be right out." I said, feigning nonchalance.

"Clary, are you sure you're okay? You've been in there a while, and you were supposed to train with me an hour ago." Jace said, worry in his tone while he fumbled with the knob a few more times.

I chided myself for forgetting all about my training session with Jace. We always had one at two in the afternoon on Tuesdays, as we had for the past three months. Never had we missed one, except for now, apparently. How had he noticed how long I had been in here for? How long had he been in my room, outside this very door? Had Jace heard my pitiful whimpers and cries as I had washed out my self-inflicted wounds? Was my secret still safe after all?

"I'm fine. I just got a little sick earlier. I forgot to tell you, I guess. Sorry, Jace." I said, desperately hoping that he would simply leave me alone and forget all about this.

"Is there anything I can do to help you? Just let me in, Clary…" He begged before I cut his words off harshly.

"I'm fine, Jace. I'll be out in a minute."

I searched frantically for a clean, non-blood stained, long sleeved top that was baggy enough to hide the bulge of bandages currently wrapped along my arm. My search efforts were quickly rewarded as I reached a black tee that was folded in the storage closet. I pulled it on hastily, cursing when it was backwards, wincing as I turned it the right way and it caught itself on my arm.

"Clary…"

I opened the door, almost knocking Jace over in the process. He mumbled in apology, before looking at me with a cross of embarrassment and surprise. His gaze traveled along my body like a cats' would, and I noticed that his eyes had lingered on my thighs for a few brief moments before he turned back up to face me. I thought little of it, until he asked the question I was almost expecting to hear.

"Are you okay?" He asked, though I got the feeling from his tone that he somehow thought that he already knew.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry for missing…"

"That's not what I was talking about, Clary." He said sharply, before softening his tone. "Why is there blood on your leg?"

Glancing down at the same spot he had originally taken interest in, I saw that there was a significant amount of crimson staining my jeans. The blood must have come from my arm, when I was cutting. In my emotional lapse I must have hastily wiped my arm on my pants, before bandaging the wound. I probably would have noticed in time and changed, had Jace not been banging impatiently at my door.

"Oh, I must have tripped and bled a little." I said, acting completely unaware and innocent.

He gave me a very skeptical look, not even bothering to state his disbelief.

"Seriously, Jace. I'm fine."

He sighed. "You don't look fine to me. Clary, I can…"

"I don't need your help." I stated cruelly, before shoving my way past him.

Jace reached out and grabbed my arm, which would have been a perfectly normal thing to do, had I not just destroyed the flesh on that limb. That move elicited a strong wince, before I quickly put up the stone facade. Sadly enough though, Jace noticed my pain, and called me out on it.

"Clary? What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing. You just squeezed a little too hard."

He rolled up my sleeve, revealing the bandages that were soaked through with blood. "Clary?"

I yanked my arm out of his grasp hastily, rolling down my sleeve in the process. "What, Jace?"

"I just want to know what happened to your arm." He said, worry tainting his angelic voice.

"Like I said earlier, I fell. Can you leave now?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently while looking away.

He shook his head. "I don't believe you, and I'm not leaving until you tell me what _actually_ happened."

I huffed and walked to my bed; which just happened to be a mess. "Jace…"

"Don't 'Jace' me, Clary. I have a god idea what happened, and I don't want it to be true. Prove me wrong." He said, the last few words soft and pleading.

I sighed, wishing that Jace felt the same way about me that the others did. For the oddest reason though, he seemed to care about my well being. While the others avoided me at all costs as it seemed, he always looked out for me. Most of the time that had proved helpful, especially for my training, but now I really just wanted to be alone; left to loath for a few hours.

"What you're thinking is probably true." I said, before walking over to my closet, pretending to be busy organizing things.

I felt a strong grip on my waist, and before I knew it, Jace was turning me around to face him. His hands were soft on my flesh, as if he was afraid of hurting me, though his grip was firm enough to hold me in place.

I looked down at the floor, which was a hardened maple, desperate to avoid Jace's strong gaze. His right hand moved from my waist up to my jaw; fingers pushing behind my ear and into my hair as he brought my face up. My eyes were forced to bore into his own golden ones, and I saw genuine worry and concern etched into his pupils.

"Clary, let me see your arm." He coaxed, reaching for it.

I tried to pull it away from him, but my body was wedged between his and the closet. "Jace, don't."

"Don't what, Clary? If you just fell, then surely me looking at it would do no harm?" He said, voice almost taunting at this point.

I stood still, not saying anything else when he picked up my left arm and looked into my eyes, as if he was asking permission. I nodded, knowing that he would look at it anyway. I turned my head the opposite way, yet I could feel the sleeve of my tee being rolled up along with the removal of the bandages.

Jace gasped, although I knew that his suspicions had only been confirmed. "Clary…"

"Just leave me alone, Jace."

"Why? So you can keep doing this without me interrupting?" He asked, his voice raising in volume.

I shook my head, but he continued his questioning. "Why do you do this, Clary?"

"I don't know," I whimpered, tears now brimming my eyes.

"Is it because of me" He asked, causing me to look up in astonishment.

Jace is many things. Arrogant, hot, sexy, conceited, brutally honest, truthful, dreamy, beautiful, charismatic, charming, talented; among many others. But, Jace is not self conscious or able to be easily surprised. Not to mention, why would he care if it was because of him? Surely I mean little to him…

I was snapped out of my reverie when I felt him ghosting his fingers along the cuts. It didn't hurt, instead it felt lovely, and made me feel almost… appreciated. I gasped a little at the feeling he elicited, and he took it the wrong way.

"Sorry, I didn't want to…"

"You didn't hurt me. It just…" I trailed off with embarrassment.

He smiled. "Felt good?"

"How did you know that?" I fired quickly.

"I saw this mundane movie once, and the man did that to the girl, and they ended up having sex." Jace explained, all while chuckling to himself.

I blushed. "Oh."

His face regained seriousness. "So what drives you to do this towards yourself, Clary?"

No way I was telling him the truth. "I don't know…"

"Clary, I really care about you. Please tell me, and I can help you."

I sighed and tried to push him away. "No you don't Jace, I'm just another girl hopelessly in love with you."

Only after I said that did I realize what I had revealed to him. "I mean…"

"You love me?" He asked.

I ducked under his arm and tried to make it to the bed, though he caught me by my good arm. "Do you?" He asked.

I stuttered and laughed unhumorously. "Of course I do. I have since one of our first training sessions."

He took a large step towards me, and pulled my body flush with his as he leaned towards my ear. "I think I love you too." He whispered, his teeth nicking my earlobe, which sent a shiver down my spine. "Which is why I mean it when I say that I don't want you doing this," Jace pointed to my wrist. "ever again."

Within a few more seconds, his lips were on mine, meeting me for a sweet kiss. One of his hands cupped my jaw, while the other wound its way into my hair. His lips only parted enough to suck on my lower lip, and we parted for air after only a minute. The exchange had been breathtaking to say the least, and Jace was a much better kisser then I had ever imagined.

"Are you in the mood to tell me what's up now?" He asked while kissing down the column of my neck.

I head back a moan and fisted my hands in his hair, tugging his face closer. "Nope."

Jace stopped and stepped away, detangling himself from me. "Well, then. I guess I'll just be on my way then…"

I whimpered at the thought of him leaving. "No, Jace. Please, stay." I begged.

"Several minutes ago you were begging me to leave. Now you are begging me to stay. What changed your mind?" He asked teasingly.

"Jace…"

"No, Clary. _You_ listen. I really care about you, and I'm not going to condone you harming yourself. I want to know why, and I want to know how I can help you."

My walls all tumbled down at his words, and I found myself telling Jace absolutely everything about it. "I started a year ago, when Valentine had come back into my life. There was so much stress, and he abused me; making me feel like a bunch of crap. My mother was also getting hurt, and it was an overall really bad time for my family.

"I turned to self harm because it seemed to temporarily assuage the mental pains and burdens. It also made it easier to put up with Valentine, because it made me have a higher pain tolerance. Even after Valentine left, and some other problems solved themselves, I still cut whoever I am having a bad day." I said glumly, before looking at Jace to gauge his reaction.

He came over and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry. But you should stop. I can help you get through things now, you don't need to do that anymore."

He ran his hands through my hair; a soothing and platonic move before he kissed the crown of my head. "Want something to eat?"

"Sure," I said. "But I need to rewrap this." I pointed awkwardly at my arm.

He grabbed some bandages off the bedside table and began to wrap them around my arm. "So do you promise that if you're having a 'bad day' you'll just come to me? I'll always be there for you, okay?"

I nodded. "Thanks, Jace."

"No problem. You know, if you're not that hungry, we could always finish what we started…" He said while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

I gave him a playful punch in the arm before walking out the door towards the kitchen. Life was definitely looking better for me. Maybe Jace was all that I had needed all along. Maybe all I needed was someone who cared enough about me. Possibly, all I needed was someone to love who loved me. Jace was all of those things.

**AN: Okay, I finally finished my other story, **_**Seemingly Unrequited**_**, and updated **_**The Lateness of the Hour**_**, so I decided to do a one-shot. Just for the fun of it. Not that I don't have enough of them on my profile already, but whatever. I enjoy writing them. This one might be slightly OOC, but there is certainly a lot of Clace. Especially towards the end. Although I must warn you that beginning is quite gruesome and depressing. I tried to keep it sensored… Anyway, please review and enjoy. Maybe another chapter could be arranged? Depends on the amount of support I get. ;)**


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